


a peacefulness which proved that there's a movement in our stillness

by mysilenceknot



Category: Spider-Man - All Media Types, Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse (2018)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Canon Jewish Character, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Jewish Peter Parker, Judaism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-21
Updated: 2020-09-21
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:29:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26573764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mysilenceknot/pseuds/mysilenceknot
Summary: He spoke without thinking, the unexpected name released in the holy space as if Hashem themself was pushing him to acknowledge what had just turned his world upside down.“Peter Parker.”
Comments: 2
Kudos: 34





	a peacefulness which proved that there's a movement in our stillness

**Author's Note:**

> L'shanah tovah! Bringing in the new year with a fic that I started a year and a half ago feels like it'll truly set the tone for how I approach making content in this next year. I love that Peter & Peter B. were both voiced by Jewish men and I wanted to include that in a story.  
> Title comes from [Goodbye, I!](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_c-8YObQRHY) by mewithoutyou.

For the first time in four years, Peter Parker walked into a shul.

It was Friday, the end of one of the longest weeks in his entire life. Less than twenty-four hours earlier he’d been in a battle to save six different New York Citys and the lives of five people like him. 

Honestly, finding out that he was just one of many people who’d lives had been changed by a radioactive spider (or a pig, he supposed, in the case of Spider-Ham) was more comforting than he wanted to admit out loud. Finding out that the theory of a multiverse was correct, however, was something that was so overwhelming that he felt the need to talk to someone about it. Instead, he went to Shabbat services for the first time since Aunt May passed.

It was a good service. The siddur was easy to follow and he felt comfortable being silent during prayers he’d never heard before. 'Lecha dodi' was sung to a tune that was bright, upbeat, and easy to catch on to. He grinned when he kissed the corner of his program that had touched the Torah, remembering how nerve wracking it was to read from the Torah with Mary Jane during the service before their wedding. The commentary on Genesis made him think about things that he’d been ignoring for years. And then, it was time for the mourner’s kaddish. 

The program had a page containing the names of those who had died in the past week, those whose death anniversaries were in the past week, and those with families observing shloshim, the thirty days of mourning after a death. The rabbi read the names before adding, “if there are any other names that we missed, please speak them out now.”

He spoke without thinking, the unexpected name released in the holy space as if Hashem themself was pushing him to acknowledge what had just turned his world upside down.

“Peter Parker.”

He never got to meet the other Peter Parker, a man who had a bright future ahead of him and wasn’t yet weighed down with the reality of protecting a world at all costs. He got to awkwardly meet another Mary Jane -- and  _ oh god, _ he’d made such a fool of himself and likely made her very uncomfortable without meaning to -- and emotionally met another Aunt May. And even though a part of him had known even in those moments that they weren’t his Mary Jane and Aunt May, another part of him was so overwhelmed that he couldn’t help but spill thoughts that he’d tried to bury deep inside him. They were different people but Peter saw echoes of the life he had once lived. He never got to meet Peter, but he still felt like he knew the other man.

Despite it all, Peter hadn’t fully lost a belief in G-d. It was annoying at times because he spent large portions of his life resentful and angry at the one he was supposed to be able to turn to. But in this moment, as the words of kaddish that he’d known since a young age spilled out, he had to believe that Miles was okay. He had to believe that everyone else had gotten home safely and the Brooklyn he’d at one point not given a single fuck about was still standing and that Miles was still alive, that Miles hadn’t had the same fate as the Peter he was praying about. 

When Aunt May was buried, hearing Tziduk Hadin had upset him. Nothing felt fair about G-d’s judgments or justice and Peter struggled to join in the prayer. And yet, later hearing the mourner’s kaddish being said by so many people who loved her infuriated him. Giving a blessing to G-d in the wake of such a strong loss felt like a joke, because how the fuck was he supposed to be thanking G-d when the woman who had helped him keep going through his entire life was gone? When someone who had accepted him without conditions, someone who refused to let him go despite everything he’d done wrong, someone who he could always turn to when he was in pain or in pure delight, was buried? Peter believed with all his heart that she wouldn’t spend a moment in gehenna but that didn’t make him want to praise G-d at all.

Now, four years later, he said kaddish for Peter Parker and felt an overwhelming sense of peace. The other Peter was gone but he was, miraculously, still here. He had been willing to die to protect Miles and the rest of the crew but somehow, he was still here. And if he was still alive, did that mean something? Was it a sign from G-d that he still had precious time to make things right.

“Oseh shalom bimromav, hu ya’aseh shalom aleinu,” Peter said with the rest of the congregation, “v’al kol-yisrael, v’imru, ‘amen’.”

He was given precious time to make things right. His life was more than being Spider-Man and meeting other Spiders emphasized that. While Spider-Man was still needed to help save the day, Peter B. Parker was needed in the lives of those who had extended him grace and love. 

The service slowly drew to a close. Peter returned the borrowed kippah to the basket in the hallway. He mingled with other participants, returning all ‘shabbat shaloms’ given to him with a smile. He was needed in this universe. 

And tomorrow, he’d begin making things right.


End file.
